


Frostbite and Third Degree Burns

by doortotomorrow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Fire, Frostbite, Ice, Mild Gore, Nightmares, Tagged it with graphic depictions of violence just in case, Third degree burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 08:16:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16364201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doortotomorrow/pseuds/doortotomorrow
Summary: Emori has an intense nightmare, but John Murphy's there to calm her down when she wakes up.





	Frostbite and Third Degree Burns

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Sarah Connor's nightmare at the beginning of Terminator : Judgment Day

Hammering in her head...all she could hear was the hammering of large, terrifying, encroaching footsteps carrying the rest of the nightmarish figure hunting for her throughout the derelict factory. The factory once mass produced something called a car, but idle thoughts of pre-nuclear inventions weren't at the top of her list of concerns right now, for the fragile waif at the unlucky age of thirteen hid shuddering underneath a table inside the decrepit main lobby. Blood soaked the back of her torn up blue jeans and turned the material a miserable shade of purple with the recently cut fabric digging deep into the open wounds as she tried everything, including chomping down hard onto her hand to keep herself from shrieking in pain. 

Horrified tears turned everything she saw into a smeared mess of desaturated ash grays, muddy browns, with speckles of blue thrown here and there in the corners of her eyes. Frantically blinking away her tears so she could see again, her heart thrilled inside her chest at the sight of two gigantic boot clad feet charging for the table and held her breath as long as she could, praying he would leave the room so she could make her escape...but that chance never came.

“You can't get away from me!”

Two mammoth sized hands slid into her view above her head, uprooting the table from its spot and sending it careening to the other side of the room. The ancient table splintered upon impact, the shrapnel flied through the room and flew up in front of her face, momentarily blinding her and giving her attacker the opportunity to pick her up from her hair. Her feet could barely make contact with the floor as he kept her in the same, agonized and terrified position. 

“Remember what I told you when I pulled your disgusting, deformed body out of the garbage,” his open hand rifled through his possessions, pulling out a serrated knife from his pocket, “I own you,” and before she had time to react, the blade sliced her arm above her mutated hand.

“I'm sorry, Baylis! I'm sorry, I'm so-” 

“Quit your useless bellyachin', you pile of trash! I'm takin' you back to camp with me, and if you didn't have those speedy little legs of yours, I'd take a hammer to them right now so you could never escape again! Count yourself lucky you still have some use for me, Emori,” Baylis spewed, the venom from his mouth foamed at the edges of his lips and made him look like a crazed beast in Emori's fear filled eyes. He yanked her arm at the open wound above her hand, making Emori utter out a hiss of horrible, burning pain as he dragged her out of the office and into the frigid, bitter, wintry abyss. The cold wind whorled around her legs, chilling Emori right down to the bone as the snow peppered her face while Baylis forcefully moved her along with him. The wind drowned out all of her shrieking while she wept uncontrollably and damned all the gods for her wretched existence. 

The sound of collapsing trees and cracking ice vibrated in Emori's head, starting off in a syncopated beat, until the entire ice covered landscape folded in on itself, warping into an alien mass in front of her eyes and tore itself in pieces, taking Baylis along with it. Everything in front of her bulged and stretched with new sounds pouring into to replace the old. In its place, the sounds of collapsing trees were replaced with the sound of distant gunfire travelling throughout the valley. The unstable, barely rendered environment solidified and had been transformed into a misty, fog coated forest and Emori welcomed the milder temperature. Her body had changed too, for she was no longer thirteen but fully matured into adulthood, and no longer coated in her own blood. However, the distress firmly planted in her chest had not yielded, but was thrumming through her system worse than ever...

“He won't make it, we have to go on without him,” Niylah stated, flat and even. Emori knelt down and gazed at the wounded man in front of her.

...John...

Raven's voice relaying orders over Monty's walkie-talkie and Harper leaving to help with Wonkru's wounded soldiers could scarcely register over the pounding of her own heartbeat thundering in her eardrums, feeling her heart fracture inside her chest with every painful throb. After everything they had been through...from him charging up the Tower in Polis to free her from ALIE's control, to being saved from Praimfaya by rocketing off into space, to nearly losing their lives from a lack of oxygen up on the Ring...this was how it was going to end for them? 

“It's too far, there's not enough time!” John stammered out, his voice heavy with sorrow. Emori, swallowing down all of her abject fear, locked eyes with John. 

“Well I guess we're both gonna die, because there's no way in hell I can leave the man I love behind,” Emori vowed, not letting herself give way to the flood of despair threatening to drown her. There was no way she was going to lose John like this, not now, not ever. How could she go through her days without waking up next to him every morning, bathing in his warmth. How could she possibly plan a future without him in it, despite all the hell they put their relationship through? How could she leave him to die alone on a desolate, bereft of life planet? The mere idea of a life without John Murphy was more frightening than all of her torturous days living under Baylis' thumb combined.

“I'm not doing that to you, Emori...I can't run,” John replied, tears spilling from his eyes. 

“Yes you can,” Emori shook his leg with her hand, viciously denying his claims.

John and Emori looked over their shoulders for assistance in getting John back up on his feet and much to their combined horror, Monty had vanished from view, leaving them completely alone together. They trained their terrified eyes up towards the sky and saw the missiles heading directly towards them.

“Emori, run! Just get out of here!” John hollered, using whatever strength he had left in his bones to shove her away from him. The missiles plummeted from the sky and smacked into the earth, sending a powerful, flaming shockwave similar to that of Praimfaya radiating in their direction. Emori held onto his hand for dear life, screaming at the top of her lungs

“John, I'm not gonna leave you!”

The wave hit their bodies, the force kicking them into the air and tearing half the muscle right off their bones with little effort. Emori's body rolled around on the ground, tumbling and tumbling, until she collided into a large, jagged rock face. Despite all of the damage she endured, she was still alive...how could she still be alive? Her next thought was looking to see if John had survived and crawled her away inch by inch towards what she thought was John's body. The smoke hanging in the air made it hard to see, but when John's form finally came into view, Emori was left shrieking...he had suffered the brunt of the damage, his body an unrecognizable mound of burnt flesh.

“Emori...Emori...Emori,” John called out her name. 

How could he still be able to talk?

“Emori, Emori.”

He was dead...wasn't he?

“Emori!”

Emori's eyes ripped open, her hands flying everywhere in a helpless flurry as a primal scream deep inside her belly lurched out of her mouth. Shooting up from her bed, her wild, panic stricken eyes gave her body the once over and saw all of herself was still intact and unharmed. The moment her eyes latched onto John, she propped herself up onto her mattress on her knees and shook her head.

“You're not here, you're dead! Dead!” 

“Emori, look at me, I'm not dead,” John soothed her, making sure to bring her back gently into the waking world. Emori continued to shake her head in utter defiance, still in the midst of her throes of terror. 

“No, you're not, I saw you die!” Emori rebuked, tears falling freely from her eyes.

“Oh for fuck's sake...listen!” John pulled a shivering, stricken Emori into his arms, and pressed her head right up against his chest, “hear that? That's my heart, Emori...what's it doing right now?” John asked, knowing full well what her answer would be.

Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub...the trademark rhythm of a steady, beating heart. In looking up at him, Emori cataloged all his intact features.

Icy blue eyes? Check.  
Sharp, defined jawline? Check.  
Facial hair adorning said jawline? Check.  
Elegantly sculpted nose centered properly on his face? Check.

Emori's whole body crumbled into his arms, weeping softly as her hand grasped onto his shirt. John rocked Emori side to side, planting tender kisses on top of her head, and smiled briefly when Emori's trembling ceased.

“I'm still alive and kicking, alright? I'm not going anywhere, Emori.”

“I want to get that down in writing this time,” Emori replied, allowing herself the opportunity to smile again. 

“I'm not gonna fuck things up again,” John lifted up Emori's chin, placing a soft kiss on her lips and nuzzled his forehead against hers, “I promise.”


End file.
